Friday morning, fully ensconced in the cottage on the shores of the mighty St. Lawrence, whose surface at this first light of day is picture perfect: A glassy mirror shrouded in a fog, obscuring the view of Canada's shore, two geese lovers floating placidly together like drift wood bobbing in front of the dock, and to complete the scene....the intermittant blare of a ship's fog horn as it plows down-river toward the gulf of St. lawrence, past Quebec city and on to the atlantic. The sound of the foghorn and the churning deisel engine proclaim it's presence in front of the camp, but remains invisible in the mist.

A pair of ducks, a blue herron, two loons join the water crowd, while with yours truly here on the shore, the starlings, robins and woodpecker join the morning coffee/worm clatch. Piles of drift wood await the summer camp fires, while rain glistened picnic tables, tell of overnight storms.

The cedars stand vigiant, framing the scene, and the light poles on Dick and Bonnie's dock are reflected perfectly in the water by the shore. Newly potted plants placed decoratively here and there by the newly retired D. add a renewed sense of occupancy here in the pastoral summer retreat..

The ship's horn is now so loud I feel that I can touch the sound as it emerges from the fog to reach my ears on the water's edge, yet she remains hidden. The mist moves in toward shore as if rolled to the side by the advancing boat, pushing not only swells of river to the side but dividing the fog and sending it to roll up on the beach also.

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Speaking of plants; the story of the florist's tomato plant continues. I was on call Monday last but did take a brief moment to come to camp for supper before returning to spend 3/4 of the night in the OR. When I entered the porch, there in all it's glory was the previously snatched-from-my-arms tomato plant. It had been delivered by the florist delivery van early Monday morning, causing some quizzical glances from the landlord. Being the always asstute business man he has been for years, my friend Joe had reconsidered and decided to gift me the potted tomato plant. I'm positive that this was in no way precipitated by any comment from Jane, or my blog post, but just merely a display of the great business sense my good friend has used throughout his career that built such a successful business that his parents would be so proud of.

In addition he had wanted to enclose a picture with his comment on that last post but being unable to do so, he called me at work to get my e-mail addy so he could send me his photo greeting to accompany the tomato.

I'm glad to see that he captured that tomato horn worm, (that is what you're hiding, isn't it Joe?) before delivering the plant.

The week in transition:

Last weekend,in Ottawa, the weather couldn't have been better. The race day temps were just as predicted; cool for the morning start and rising to the mid 70's by noon. We finished standing, not crawling, and even had a 50 meter sprint left in the tired limbs at the end. I've never considered myself a masochist but after running 13.1 miles I think I understand the concept of pleasure from pain. I recovered in three days unlike the 6 weeks it took to come back after the Marathon run 3 years ago.

Will post photos when they arrive.

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Fast forward to yesterday. It was a rainy day! No, it was a sunny day. No it was a rainy day.

Sometimes I like rainy days, and yesterday, early morning, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping java and staring out the window at the landscape blurred by rain, a sense of peaceful quietude embraced me and it felt comfortable. A day that boasted of reflection.

Around noon the sun shone brightly and warmed the air considerably, bringing thoughts of different activities; i.e. lets move somemore stuff to camp and have supper there.

After supper we watched the phenomena of the storm clouds and pouring rain advance from Canada across the river. In a matter of only a very few minutes we went from bright, warm summer evening to deluge of rain and coolish temps made even more uncomfortable by the gusting winds.

A day of transitions, just like the week preceding it. A week with many stories; some routine and mundane, to a career wrenching scenario always feared and fortunately had a satisfactory outcome. A week of tremendous highs, to very low, to meditative to....well let me tell you a titillatingly humorous story of woe.

You thought that I'd forgotten Joe? I know, I was supposed to post this last night but I didn't, but then You didn't sell me that tomato plant now did you? ;)


The day starting out with a steady drenching, slow, garden soaking rain, seemed like a good time to make a trip to the big city to stock up with provisions and run various and sundry errands. After getting groceries, the last item on the honey-do list was a stop at the local florist's green house to procure some plants; flowers for the cemetery and a few vegetable plants for the veggie garden. Before going over there though, I stopped at Wood's to pick up a trellis. I didn't know that we no longer needed it but, oh well, we'll use it next year I'm sure. We have a new backyard neighbor, who when she met D. asked if we grew hot peppers? She is from Mexico (her husband is a Border Patrol officer), and said if we did she'd like some. ( Therese, tell Chuck that they bought Prof Hugh's place from the Wades.)
I picked up a few plants at Wood's but more importantly had a great chat with Glenda, who informed me that I was correct when I told her last year that genetics could be over come. She started on a concerted diet and exercise regime and has realized remarkable remission of the debilitating symptoms of her rheumatoid arthritis.

Now on to the last and very important stop: Basta's, and the purchasing of the bulk of my planting needs. Surprise, surprise, my good friend and the owner of Basta's: Joe, was the one and only service person working. It was around noon and the rain had stopped and the sun was warming things up, the garden center was quite busy with customers and Joe was reflecting that he had almost closed for the day. He informed me that I had just missed Jane, his wife and an avid reader of this blog. Hi Jane. ;)

Let me interject here: have you ever gone to a retail store and picked something off the shelf, taken it to the counter and have the clerk snatch the item from your hand and tell you that you can't have that item because it was theirs?

While my good friend (we go back nearly 50 years) Joe was attending to the needs of other customers, I browsed around the many green houses looking at and picking up plants for purchase. Before leaving the house in the morning D. had asked me to buy a patio tomato plant for camp. You know, one of those already three foot high ready to set fruit potted tomato plants that apartment dwellers and such buy so as to have and enjoy the flavor of home grown tomatoes? Ok, well as I wandered through the green houses I came upon a large potted tomato plant, a plum style tomato for which we have a particular affinity because not only does it makes the best sauce, but fresh, sprinkled with fresh cut basil, and a slice of goat cheese, makes a great appetizer or even a meal in itself some nights.

This will be just the ticket for D. thought I, and I struggled to pick up this giant plant. In fact I had to set down the box with the multitude of plants I'd already accumulated just to maneuver the bigger pot into my arms and todder over to the cash register.

Imagine...just imagine, if you will, my chagrin when My Friend comes out from behind the counter smiling, chuckling and snatches the giant tomato plant from my arms and says, "oh, oh, oh,.... no, no, no, you're messing with my garden now rel , you can't have that!"

Well of course I was taken aback and at a loss for words (can you imagine...rel at a loss for words?) and it took me a few moments to collect my thoughts. Then I responded: " Oh gracious me Joe, I so sorry, I never saw the sign that said that this plant was not for sale or reserved for the owner. I'm really, really sorry. It was just an honest mistake."

With sheepish grin Joe says;" oops, there wasn't any sign or note. I know I should have marked it but I didn't." Hmmmm........ What do you think of that????????????????

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Ok, I'm off for a 6 mile run and then to the Bedrock for a breakfast buffet and then to camp.
No phone, tv, or internet at camp 'til next week.....But our cell phones work!